


Safety Concerns

by letdown



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Driving, Driving Lessons, Family Video, Gen, Learning how to drive, Overcoming Fear, Post-Season/Series 03, Robin Buckley is A Mess, Robin is a useless lesbian who doesn't know how to drive. Steve teaches her., That's it. That's the fic.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 00:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20266867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letdown/pseuds/letdown
Summary: "Do you know how to drive?""Do you know how to count?"Robin has never driven a car before. Steve teaches her.





	Safety Concerns

"Do you know how to drive?"

At first, Steve didn't notice that Robin never used any transportation other than her bike. He notices it, though, when October rolls around, bringing icy winds and sudden rainfalls, and Robin keeps showing up to their shifts at Family Video on her bike. Soaked to the bone, her hair sticking to her face - these are the days he will dance around her and be careful not to push her buttons because she is not in the mood to deal with _dinguses_.

"What?" Robin is focused on rearranging the Action section. Someone messed up the alphabetical order. It might have been Steve, actually. He gets tired of singing the alphabet song in his head sometimes, but how would he know if J or I comes first if it weren't for that damn song? He can't focus on the melody when someone is talking to him, though. He doesn't tell her any of that.

"I asked," he says, slower, louder, "If you know how to drive."

Robin takes several tapes out of the shelf. "Do you know how to count?"

Drawing his brows together in confusion, he answers, "Yeah, duh?"

She turns around and shoots him a look, lifting an eyebrow. "Apparently not. It's Rocky I, then II, then III. Skipped kindergarten by any chance?"

"Fuck you."

She puts the tapes in the correct order and comes over to the counter where Steve is stacking candy bars as if trying to build a house of cards. "No."

"What?"

"My answer to your _question_." Resting her arms on the counter, Robin leans forward. "No, I don't know how to drive."

At this point, it doesn't really come as a surprise.

The first time he offered to drive Robin home in summer, before they even started to look for a new job, she hesitated. "I have some ... safety concerns." He couldn't hold it against her, though, after her first time sitting in the passenger seat with Steve behind the steering wheel.

That night on the Fourth of July, in the TODFTHER, Steve was most likely still under the influence when he decided to drive all the way up to Weathertop and then deliberately crashed into Billy's Camaro. It still surprises him that they didn't die in that car, even though he is sure the impact gave both of them a concussion. Thinking about it now, he doesn't know if he should laugh about how bizarre it all was or if he should be concerned. Either way, he is glad they didn't die - but considering the things they faced that day, dying in a car crash would have been statistically unrealistic. He thinks. He never paid attention when they learned to calculate probabilities in high school. He is sure that Dustin would be able to explain it all within a matter of moments: their odds for getting killed by the Russians, the Mind Flayer, or Steve's driving. He makes a mental note not to bring this topic up, ever.

Because of this experience, he understands that Robin was cautious to get into a car with him again. It took some convincing (allowing her to bring her own cassette tapes to play, since she didn't trust his taste in music) to get her to agree to his offer to take her home. "It's surprising," she said when he dropped her off outside her house, "but you're not a bad driver, actually."

Steve _knows_ that.

Still, Robin rides her bike most days, despite the weather, despite being clumsy: her scraped knees and elbows are speaking volumes. Steve wouldn't mind picking her up from school and dropping her off at the video store when they work different shifts, let alone driving all the way across town to pick her up at home and take her back the days they work the same hours. It is quite a detour for him, getting to the Buckley's house, but he likes driving and he likes driving with Robin, and his father pays for his gas, after all.

"How come you didn't learn how to drive?" His candy house wobbles dangerously as he places another Mars bar on top.

Robin steals and starts to unwrap it. There are no customers in sight. "I just didn't. I don't have a car. Why would I need to know how to drive if I don't have a car?"

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. "Well, have you considered getting a car in the future?"

She takes a bite from her candy bar. "Believe it or not, Steve-o, but not everybody should drive."

"Most people do, though."

"Yeah, doesn't mean that most people _should_."

Steve thinks of his ancient neighbor backing his car into his fence. "Okay. Point. Uh. You think you're one of the people who shouldn't drive?"

"Well, I never tried," She crumples the candy wrapper into a ball and aims for the trash can behind the counter. The wrapper lands at least five feet in front of it. "But I failed my vision test before."

Steve blinks at her before he bends down and throws the wrapper in the trash. "Well. Getting glasses would be the first step then. And then, uh. Why not give it a try?"

She shakes her head. "I've decided that driving is not for me."

Steve shrugs and drops the topic when his candy house falls apart and chocolate bars slide all over the counter.

But Robin brings it up again, when one day in November, she asks him to stop at a pizza restaurant on their way back from work. The day before, it snowed. Nothing is left of that, except a few grayish mud puddles by the street. These days, she accepts Steve's offer to drop her off at home. It's not bicycle weather.

They eat their pizza inside Steve's car instead of at the restaurant - they don't want to bother the closing shift any longer. Besides, it's comfortable, the BMW's heating system is working at full speed and they play music of their choice. Well, Robin's choice. But Steve doesn't mind, Steve has to admit, he actually likes her music just as much as the so-called bubblegum pop he listens to when he is by himself. It's when they wipe their greasy fingers on a few napkins that Robin says, as casually as she can, "Would you show me how to drive?"

Steve looks at her. He's not sure what to make of her question, and takes his time licking his thumb and pointer finger before wiping them on a napkin. "You want to drive my car?"

"Unless you have a different one available just for practicing purposes." She rolls her eyes. "If you trust me not to wreck it?"

"You wouldn't be the first person without a license to drive it," he says grimly. He remembers spotting red curls upon waking up in the backseat, squeezed in between the Wheeler kid and Dustin who was holding an ice pack to his beat up face. He remembers Max looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights before she turned back around and floored it. Steve was convinced they would all die and he would be held responsible. Well, no, because he would have been dead. But that's beside the point. Ever since then he has been uneasy sitting anywhere other than in the driver's seat. But Robin, he knows, is more sensible than Max, in some ways at least. Besides, the parking lot they're in is empty except for two other cars. They probably belong to the poor bastards who are working the closing shift at the restaurant. It's a quiet night, they're nowhere near roads where you would expect traffic at a time like this. They will be fine.

"So you changed your mind," Steve says, throwing the empty pizza box in the backseat.

"I thought I could as well try. But to be honest," Robin says, tucking one leg underneath her body to turn and face him, "I have absolutely no idea what to do."

Steve shrugs. "We all have to start somewhere." He made his first attempts at driving when he was - twelve, maybe? Out on a dirt road by Merrill's farm, his father allowed him to climb into the driver's seat, much to his mom's dismay, and gave instructions from the passenger seat while Steve drove down the uneven path for a few minutes. It's one of the rare good memories he has with his father - he is pretty sure he can count them all on one hand. Not that he would bother trying.

"It - it freaks me out. Big, dangerous metal box, having to be so focused because if you mess up, you die and kill a bunch of other people with you? That's ... a lot."

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being realistic!" She throws her hands up in an appalled gesture. "It's a big responsibility."

Steve blinks a few times, thinking of what to say. "It's just a new skill that you have to learn. You're good at learning new things, right? Besides, I'm pretty sure that, if you have some common sense, driving is safer than... than..." He gestures vaguely.

"... Breaking into a secret Russian base while on ice cream scooping duty?" Robin offers with a smile.

"Definitely." He pushes open the door. "Come on."

"What?" Robin seems startled, her eyes widen in horror as she watches him get out of the car. "Now?"

Steve is irritated by her sudden hesitation. "Yeah, now. We're in an empty parking lot." It doesn't matter that Steve is nowhere near qualified nor legally allowed to teach someone how to drive. The sun set hours ago, there is a thick fog that makes it hard to see far. It rained heavily for hours and the asphalt is still wet. "What could go wrong?"

"Lots of horsepower in the hands of a dumb, clumsy lesbian?" Her voice is half an octave higher than usual. _Many_ things could go wrong. But Robin reaches for the door handle and gets out.

Steve slaps her shoulder as they walk past each other, switching sides. "Come on, you got this."

"Okay, okay." Steve watches her get into the driver's seat, visibly uncomfortable. She wrings her hands, not sure if to reach for the steering wheel or not. He has never seen her so distraught before, he had no idea she was even able to lose her composure. She _laughed_ while facing death in Starcourt Mall, _before_ they were drugged. The memory makes him shake his head. Robin is - special.

"Robin," he says.

"Huh?"

"Calm down. It's less scary than you think. Look at the pedals." Steve has to repeat it because she is still staring at him. "From left to right it's clutch, brake, acceleration. For the clutch, you want to use your left foot. Your right foot is for brake and acceleration. Got that?"

"Uh-huh," she says, eyes fixed on the pedals.

"Now, before you turn on the ignition, you should get comfortable with this thing here," he says, tapping the gear stick. "Put the clutch pedal down."

Robin does, then places her hand on the gear stick. Steve places his on top, only for Robin to give him a grin. "How many girls have you pulled that move on?"

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile at her usual humor peaking through her nervousness. "Would you shut up and focus?"

"No, seriously, enlighten me. Does it work? This could be my true drive to get my license..."

Steve chuckles. "Huh. _Drive_."

"I'm proud of you, dingus. It wasn't easy to pick up on that pun."

"Quiet, Buckles."

Robin laughs and relaxes a little. She lets him show her to wiggle the gear shift around when it's in neutral, then shift into first, down into second and then into third gear for good measure. Steve doubts that they will make use of the other gears anyway. He lifts his hand off Robin's. "Now try on your own," he tells her, only to watch her shift into third instead of first. "Push to the left first - not all the way though."

She shoots him a look that he can't quite interpret.

"Try again."

When she gets it right, he turns the key and starts the car. Robin clutches the steering wheel, her knuckles protrude white and pointy. "How about some warning?"

"You're ready for this. Time to get a feeling for the clutch. You're still holding it down, now I want you to lift it in a slow motion until you feel that the car is about to move forward." Robin tries. Steve tells her to hold on when he notices that she is getting to the car's bite point. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"The vibrations."

"No."

"Do it again." When he asks her again and she gives him a small nod, he can tell that she still has no idea what a bite point is, but he doesn't want to bother with it anymore. Whatever. If Robin gets the car to move today, Steve will be happy.

They focus on the gas pedal now. He tells Robin to lightly press it down to get comfortable with it, but Robin's interpretation of lightly differs drastically from his. The engine revs miserably. A horrible howling noise that causes Steve physical pain cuts through the quiet night.

"I said LIGHTLY!"

"Thanks for being so specific!" Robin throws her hands up in a dramatic gesture.

Steve calms himself. "Don't _floor_ it. Tap it." This time, it sounds better, not like she's trying to go from zero to sixty in a blink. Steve is pleased. He instructs her to tap the accelerator again just like that and lift the clutch to get to the bite point.

"Okay, okay, okay," Robin mumbles, biting down on her lower lip. She follows his instructions with a stern look. Steve closes his eyes, and prepares for the worst.

The car stutters, but it starts to move. It's sluggish, it's barely rolling out of the parking spot, and Robin is squealing with delight, clapping her hands together like a little kid.

"Hands on the steering wheel," Steve tells her.

She salutes. "Aye, captain!"

Steve suppresses a sigh. Robin rolls around the parking lot. She is barely going above walking speed, but it's enough to make her radiate happiness. She drives in circles, Steve makes sure she keeps far away from the other cars that are still parked in the lot. "This is fun! This isn't bad at all!" Robin tells him. He puts a damper on her ecstasy by asking her to bring the car to a full stop and get it to move again.

Robin brakes a little too harshly. Steve takes a mental note to make her practice how to brake in a safe manner the next time. For good measure, he makes her find first gear again, even though she never got to shifting into second. She overestimates herself, lifts her foot off the clutch too quickly. The car stalls, takes a leap forward. The impact makes them slump forward, Steve has to hold onto the dashboard to steady himself for the second time within moments. Robin laughs at her mistake. Steve forces himself to smile - he pities his poor car, and his head. His brain has gone through enough injuries within the past year.

Robin's next attempt at getting the BMW to move is successful. She grows confident, speeds up enough to shift into second gear. Steve gives her a thumbs up.

"I wanna try going in reverse," she tells him, her eyes sparkling, but Steve's smile drops. They are in a dimly lit parking lot after all and he didn't even bother to make Robin adjust the mirrors - there is no way in hell he'll allow her to drive around in reverse and risk hitting something.

He wouldn't admit it, but it makes him antsy, not having control over his car. He wants to blame it solely on Max, but Robin's all or nothing attitude plays into this, too. He knows she can't follow instructions for life, has learned this the hard way when they attempted to cook or bake together, but he has to figure out a way to show her that more isn't necessarily better. Especially when it comes to pressure on the gas pedal and brakes. On the other hand - Steve is probably bad at giving instructions, too. "Yeah, let's try that next time. Enough for today."

Robin slows down, stalls the engine again. She doesn't even seem to notice this time, doesn't question it when he makes her put the clutch down again to he can tighten the handbrake and drop the transmission into neutral. She rambles on and on, drumming on the steering wheel with her fingers. She slams the horn on accident. The noise cuts through the quiet night like a gun shot.

They switch seats after that. Steve might be a little insane, according to the kids, but he's not insane enough to let Robin try and figure out actual roads after her first time behind a steering wheel. Not that they would pass many cars at a time like this, but it's better to be safe than sorry. They sing along to a-ha's Take on Me, Robin turning the volume up to its maximum up until they get to the residential areas where barely any windows are lit. It's past bedtime for the citizens of Hawkins. Robin's house is completely dark. Steve kills the engine.

"Thank you," Robin says, pulling at a stray thread hanging from the hem of her sweater. The absence of _dingus_ here tells him that something else is coming.

"What for? Letting you make my car suffer?"

"Basically," she laughs. "I always thought I'd get around without knowing how to drive just fine, but - not in a place like Hawkins and not in winter. And I figured I can't keep asking you to drive me around until we're both old and grey."

Steve tries to picture it: Driving around at walking speed in a futuristic car with Robin, only seeing vague silhouettes due to his eyesight's pitiful decline. It's a scary thought, actually, but Robin implying that they will still be friends fifty years down the line makes him feel warm. He smiles. "But now I take it your first time driving wasn't that scary after all, Miss Pees-Her-Pants?"

"Only a little bit. It was also fun. I might actually set some money aside to buy a car someday. Maybe not a BMW. Maybe a shitty Ford Pinto is enough for a start."

"Get your license first, though."

"Duh." She punches his shoulder. "Hey, did I do an okay job?"

"Yeah. You did well," Steve tells her, and he means it, really. He thinks. He can't recall his first attempts at driving enough to make a comparison. But either way, what would there be to compare? "No one died, no one's injured, I was barely concerned for my safety...That's... That's a success."

Robin leans in for a side hug and takes the opportunity to ruffle his hair. "Thanks for believing in me, dingus."

"Anytime, Buckles."

**Author's Note:**

> i spent hours reading driving instructions in english for the necessary vocabulary. (the dedication, the pain, the suffering.) if something sounds odd, please let me know. i couldn't bother to be as thorough with my spell and grammar checking this time.
> 
> i'd be super happy about feedback - if you feel like it and have the time, leave some in the form of kudos or a comment. it would mean the world to me.
> 
> i'm on tumblr [@lletdown](https://lletdown.tumblr.com). i'd love to connect there and talk about anything, really!
> 
> thanks for reading <3


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